


Caught in the Rain

by anonymousheroine



Series: Dark Academia!AU [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Boss/Employee Relationship, Confessional Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, No Romance, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousheroine/pseuds/anonymousheroine
Summary: You're the graduate student in charge of grading all the papers submitted for Professor Hotchner's freshman courses. You've done a pretty good job…until you end up misplacing several final papers the day grades are due. He has quite the punishment ready for you…
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Series: Dark Academia!AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913527
Comments: 2
Kudos: 81





	Caught in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I thought to myself "Hotch would be a hot professor" and then I wrote this, enjoy!

Your heart beats out of your chest as you tear apart your entire apartment, his email repeating over and over in your head.

_Y/N,_

_I'm missing several students' final papers and I need to submit grades by midnight. Bring them to me immediately or else I'll have to put a word in with the department head. I've attached a spreadsheet containing the missing ones._

_I'd hurry if I were you, the clock's ticking._

_Signed,_

_Aaron Hotchner_

"Fuck!" You drop down on the floor of your apartment, curling up, tugging at your hair, "where the hell did I put them!"

You swore that you turned all of them in when you dropped them off this morning. You triple checked. You were sure of it. 

You've never slipped up this badly before.

Once, you had left a paper at home but you practically ran back to get it. He wasn't very lenient then, but you had managed to turn it in on time so he let you off with a warning.

It feels like Professor Hotchner has been after you for the longest time. He corrects every mistake you make. He _always_ notes if you're tardy for meetings or if you used the wrong highlighter to mark a passage. 

Now, he has every right to fire you from your job as a grader. 

As much as you _hated_ working for him, you liked getting paid to read and mark up papers. You were good at it and you enjoyed seeing what people came up with. 

It was insightful, all the varying opinions on victimology and criminal activity. 

You didn't want to lose this job, especially when you worked for one of the leading professors in the field. His recommendation could pave the way for your own future teaching career. 

If only you could find those damn papers! 

But there's nowhere else you could've put them… 

You never bring your work outside of your apartment, for this very reason. You couldn't risk losing it. 

He has made it _very clear_ that he could not afford to miss any deadlines, especially when it came to submitting grades, since there was absolutely no leeway. 

You glance up at the clock. It's almost midnight. You nearly break down in tears, your anxiety overwhelming you.

What do you do…

You can't find them anywhere! 

You keep looking and looking but they're nowhere to be found… 

When you finally admit defeat, you decide it would be best to let him know in person that you can't find them. You didn't want to write an email, risking having that confession in writing. 

So, you quickly get changed out of your pajamas and throw on a sweater, since it's getting cold, and then rush to his house. Thankfully, it's only a fifteen minute walk, but, suddenly, it begins to rain halfway through.

Your luck today is just absolute shit. 

By the time you get to his house, you're soaked from head to toe and freezing. 

You'd hate for him to see you like this but you need to tell him so he can notify the department that the grades have been compromised.

You swallow back your pride and knock on his front door, calling out, "Professor!"

You hope he can hear your knocks over the rain, but it doesn't seem like he does because he hasn't approached the door yet.

You continue your knocks, which become increasingly more manic, as you yell, trying to be louder than the rain, "Professor Hotchner! It's me, Y/N! I-I…I need to tell you that…please open the door!"

You're shivering profusely when he finally comes to the door, looking at you as if he's seen a ghost, saying, "Y/N, why are you…"

"I'm so sorry, Professor," you begin to cry out, "I-I couldn't find the papers. I looked everywhere but I just…" 

You begin to sniffle and you don't know if it's because of the tears streaming down your face or because of the freezing cold rain, but you clutch your arms, trying to get warm, though it barely helps.

"I understand i-if you need to fire me," you bite your lip, choking back a sob, "I'm so sorry, I should've been more attentive, I don't know how I-"

"Y/N, you need to get out of the rain," he says outright, stepping outside to place his warm hand on your back, guiding you inside, "we can't talk if you're going to get hypothermia, I can barely understand you right now."

You nod and he shuts the door behind you. You're dripping a massive puddle onto his floor and you couldn't be more embarrassed right now. 

"There's a shower down the hall," he says, his tone completely blunt and straightforward, just like it always is. 

_Emotionless_. 

"Let me find you a change of clothes and we can discuss this when you aren't covered in rain," he leaves you alone for a moment before returning with a shirt and a pair of sweats. 

You take them and follow him down the hall to the bathroom. He leaves you then so you can wash up and you quickly shed your wet clothes, getting into the shower.

The hot water helps immensely, though you don't have much time before midnight, so you scrub yourself down as fast as you can, before stepping out. 

You then look at your soaked underwear and bra and you know you can't possibly put them back on, no matter how much you try to squeeze all the water out of them, so you just take a deep breath and throw on the clothes he had given you, praying they're baggy enough to cover you up. 

Then, you exit the bathroom and he's there waiting with a plastic bag, saying, "put your clothes in this and I'll show you the dryer."

You nod and stuff all your wet clothes in the bag, though you try to discreetly hide your underwear from his eyes. Then, he leads you to another part of the house where the laundry room is and you put all your clothes in his dryer. 

The cycle should finish up soon, so you'll be free to go then. 

You know you aren't off the hook though. 

You turn back to him and go, "what do we do now? I-I can try to contact the students and get their papers again. I'm sure they all saved it somewhere and I only need to skim through it to remember what grade I gave them."

"It's too late for that," he points to the clock hanging on the wall. 

It's just struck midnight and you feel your heart _sink_. 

"I'm so sorry, Professor Hotchner," you let out a defeated sigh, your voice shaky as you say, "I-I'll take whatever disciplinary action the board gives me, so please tell them it's my mistake that you didn't submit your grades in time." 

"I told you _so many times_ to be careful with students' work," his voice is stern and it makes your blood run cold, "why don't you ever listen?"

"I-I did, I swear," you bite your lip, looking up at him, "I always triple checked my work, I always made sure I used the correct markings, I always…"

"That's right," he says in a voice you've never heard before. It's low and… _seductive_ , catching you by surprise, "you _always_ do everything right. Never once could I find a reason to punish you, _until now_."

Suddenly, you feel him pick you up and before you can even react, he sets you down on top of the dryer, which is vibrating intensely as it tries to dry out all your rain-soaked clothes. He then presses his hands against the top of the dryer, resting them at your sides, towering over you, trapping you in. 

Your heart begins to beat out of your chest as you feel how close he is, his warmth radiating off his body, as he says, "what am I going to do with you?"

You can't find the words to say anything back.

You're in complete shock as he fills every one of your senses. His eyes stare right into yours with that piercing glare of his. He smells like aftershave, reminding you of the times where you've brushed shoulders with him, taking in his scent by accident. His thumbs graze your hips and you don't know if it's accidental or… 

His voice completely takes over your mind when he goes, "just admit why you're _really_ here, Y/N." 

"I-I don't k-know what you mean, Professor," you manage to utter some words, not knowing what he's referring to. 

"You know what I'm talking about," he stares you down, stating bluntly, "I overheard you and Emily a few weeks ago."

 _Fuck_ , you bite your lip, remembering that night.

You had a little _too_ many drinks at a graduate student mixer, but in your defense, you had just finished grading midterm papers and you desperately needed a mental break. 

Emily, as she always did, dragged you off to the side of the party, feeding you drinks as she babbled on about the people she's dating.

"Then, there was this one girl, and oh my god, I just…" 

You were too many drinks in to really pay attention to anything she's saying and you assumed that's what she liked about you. You were always open to being the listener, even if you weren't fully attentive. 

Though, somewhere in the mix, she went, "so, have you fucked him yet?"

You nearly choked on your drink when you heard her say that, replying, "what, who?"

"Professor Hotchner," she said back in a sultry voice, "that's why you're _still_ grading his papers, after all." 

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," the blush on your face gave you away, however, making Emily laugh. 

"Admit it," she whispered in your ear, "you wish one of these days, he'd just rip your clothes off and have his way with you." 

"Emily!" You exclaim, although quietly, your face getting redder and redder by the minute and you're absolutely sure it wasn't from the alcohol. 

"You know I'm right," she responded with a smirk, "I see the way you stare at him when he's not looking. The thirst in your eyes. You just love how dismissive he is of you."

" _He's a professor_ ," you gritted your teeth, trying to find a way out of this conversation before she reads you out loud like a book. 

"So?" She replied, smiling, "students sleep with their professors all the time. Look at Rossi, he's probably been written up more times than we can count."

"Not Professor Hotchner," you said, knowing how strict he was, "he'd never-"

"Why are you so sure?" She squinted at you, curious at your words, "have you tried?"

"O-Of course not!" You acted defensively. "I wouldn't do something like that!"

"Doesn't mean you don't want to," Emily teased, turning your head towards him, as she whispered, "you're the only person who doesn't call him Hotch and we both know why that is."

Your eyes locked on him. He was only a few groups away, mid-conversation with some of the other professors. You're thankful that he probably couldn't hear all the scandalous things Emily was saying. 

Because she was right. 

He insisted on being called Hotch, but you could never get that close to him because you felt the moment you did…you might slip up. 

You used the term 'Professor' as a shield, to hide away your feelings for him. 

"You should consider just showing up to his house one day and taking what you want," she urged you, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Why else has he kept you this close?" 

"I-I should go now, I still have…work to do," you swallowed the last of your drink forcefully, tossing it in a nearby trash can before rushing out of the party, unable to handle the interrogation any longer. 

You caught Emily smiling from your peripheral vision, knowing she saw right through you. 

Now, he knew the truth too because he didn't take his eyes off you during that mixer. 

_He heard every word._

"Isn't that why you showed up to my house, in the middle of the night, dripping wet?" He says tantalizingly into your ear, taking your breath away with every word, "you wanted me to see the way the rain soaked through your sweater, showing off every inch of your body, as you acted so shy, as if you didn't realize what a show you put on. I should discipline you just for that."

"P-Professor, I swear, I didn't plan this," you say, your heart racing, making your breaths uneven. 

That, coupled with the way the dryer vibrated underneath you, penetrating the thin sweats you were wearing. You had no underwear on to shield you from the intensity coursing through you.

"Do you think I believe you?" He looks at you with eyes so fierce, you aren't surprised that you're turned on right now. 

_He is so close._

You could feel his breath against your lips. You feel every word he says to you. 

Then, he pulls out his phone, showing you an email, saying, "read it." 

You turn your attention over to his phone, looking at the words on the screen. It's a reply to his email to you, from him, sent a few minutes after you left for his house. 

_Y/N,_

_I found the missing papers. They were stuck in between other students' work. Next time, file them correctly, in alphabetical order._

_I'd rather not see this mistake again._

_Signed,_

_Aaron Hotchner_

"What…" You glance back up at him after reading the message, "I-I didn't check my email, I had already left. I didn't know." 

You see him smile right then. A smile you've never seen before. It's provocative and you know he still doesn't believe you from the looks of it. 

"I swear, Professor, I-"

"No more Professor, I want you to call me Hotch," his voice commands. The moment you hesitate, he says back sternly, " _I won't ask again_." 

"H-Hotch," you breathe out for the first time, "I assure you, I didn't come here to…"

"To what?" Hotch straightens up, making your breath catch in your throat at the way he stands over you, asserting his dominance. 

You don't know if you could utter the words, but you know you have to, even if you didn't want to. 

"I didn't come here to seduce you," you admit truthfully.

"And yet, _you did_ ," he says onto your lips, "now, what are you going to do about it? Are you going to keep pretending that you don't want to sleep with me?"

You swallow, knowing that he already knew the truth. You don't know how to get out of this situation. He held you captive, with both his intense glare and his strong arms, locking you in. 

You're consumed by the way he looks wearing just a polo and athletic pants. He never wears clothes like this to work. He always had a suit on, stayed completely professional. His clothes hug his body so well, you just wanted to reach out and touch him. 

So, can you keep pretending you weren't attracted to him? 

The moment you open your mouth to say something, his words cause you to shut right back up, as he goes, his lips getting closer to yours, making you feel every word against your lips, "or, do you want me to just rip off your clothes and take you right here? Tell me, Y/N."

So many thoughts race through your mind as your heart beats out of your chest and the butterflies in your stomach run absolutely wild, you barely realize that the words had rolled off your tongue before you could catch them.

" _I want you, Hotch_ ," you confess and that's all it takes for him to crash his lips onto yours. 

It's hot, the way he kisses you with such passion, filled with need. He grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him, lifting your legs so they have to wrap around his torso, as he fiercely kisses you. His warm tongue enters your mouth and he deepens the kiss, stealing every breath away. 

You drown in the feeling of him, his hips pressed against yours, his hands roaming the skin beneath your shirt. 

Your breath hikes when his hands make their way up your cold chest, taking a hold of your breasts, pinching your hard nipples, making you squirm at his touch. 

Then, Hotch pulls off your shirt entirely and you instinctively cover yourself up. He doesn't look happy at the way you hide yourself from him. 

" _Move your arms_ ," he demands and you nervously clench your teeth but eventually you nod, putting your arms behind you, letting him see you topless. 

The way he stares at your body, it makes your skin burn, but not as much as when you watch him lean forward, pressing his lips against your neck. He begins to kiss down your skin, before taking your nipple in his mouth, his warm tongue rolling circles around it. You can't contain your moan and you let it slip out. You could feel him smile against your skin as he continues to tease you. 

You know that you must be soaking wet already and the look in his eyes tells you that he knows as well. 

That's why he moves away from your chest, kissing down your stomach, and then, he hooks his thumbs into your sweats, pulling them off in one swift motion, dragging you to the edge of the dryer as he does so. 

You watch as he kneels down, his hands spreading your legs apart. You are completely naked now and he could see all of you, making the blush on your face increase tenfold. 

"How long have you been this wet?" He says, his finger running up your core as he asks, making you shudder at his touch. "I know it isn't from the rain." 

When you don't answer, he takes it as an invitation to dive right in. You clench up when you feel his tongue against your clit, but his hands keep your legs spread, forcing you to take it. You quickly clamp your hand over your mouth as Hotch begins to lick up and down your core, your moans becoming uncontrollable.

Hotch moves away for a moment to say, his eyes looking right at the hand over your mouth, "what did I say earlier?"

You bite your lip then move your hand away, balling it into a fist as he moves back to your clit, your pleasurable sighs echoing through the small laundry room. 

You grip the edge of the dryer, trying to keep yourself steady, as you feel your climax approaching. Your breaths become sporadic and your knuckles go completely white as your entire body begins to shake, your mind filling with pleasure. 

Hotch holds you down, his tongue licking up every bit of your soaked core, making you shiver in ecstasy. Your clit feels like it's been rubbed raw and yet his warm tongue sends sparks through you with every pass. 

When you feel him move away, you think you have time to take a breather, but then you feel his finger enter you and your breath is taken away immediately once again. He slides it in and out of you, watching as you moan, trying to find just the right rhythm, just the right spot, to make you unravel at his touch. 

Then, he adds another finger, spreading you wide open. You can't take it, the way he fucks you with his fingers. You move your hands from the dryer, gripping his shoulders instead, trying to gain some kind of control over the situation, but he merely smirks at your attempt. 

"Can't handle it?" His voice is direct.

You shake your head, gasping when he adds a third finger, filling you up so much. You never realize how big his hands were, how thick his fingers are. 

_They aren't just for grading._

"It's too much," you try to push him away but he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, curling them so they rub you right where you want them to. 

"If you can't take this, _then you won't be able to take me_ ," he says against your ear, making you shiver from head to toe. 

Hotch doesn't stop and you don't want him to. You slowly open up to the feeling of being filled to the brim. You take a hold of his shoulders, leaning your head against his chest, breathing in his scent, as his fingers have their way with you. 

You practically scream when your orgasm hits you all of a sudden, sending shock waves through your body. It is so intense and he keeps thrusting his fingers into you as you ride it out. 

But he doesn't stop there.

Hotch keeps going, his fingers taking you for what feels like forever, and you cum over and over again, losing count somewhere along the way. 

So, when he finally pulls them out of you, you let out an uncontrollable whimper, wishing he hadn't left you feeling so empty. 

"You won't be empty for long," he breathes against your lips as you hear a button snap and he pulls his length out of his pants, along with a condom from his pocket. He's throbbing, and he was right. 

You definitely couldn't have taken him earlier, not without the help of his fingers. 

When he finishes slipping the condom on, Hotch lines himself up at your entrance and you nearly claw into his shoulder when he starts to slip into you. 

"Breathe," he commands, "deeply, slowly."

You nod into his chest, your breaths becoming regular again. With every breath you take, he pushes into you just a bit. Soon enough, his hips meet yours and you feel him fully inside of you. 

You don't know how you can even move. You've never been filled this much before. 

Hotch takes it slowly, moving in and out at the gentle pace, letting you adjust to him. You feel your hips begin to move with his, wanting to match his rhythm. 

You're overwhelmed by the feeling, but it feels _amazing_.

He then picks up the pace, thrusting into you deeper and pulling out of you more and more, until you feel him slam his length all the way inside of you in one go, making you gasp for air. 

You don't feel any pain, just pleasure, and you ride the feeling, wanting more and more. He leans down to kiss you and you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back. His warm tongue fills your mouth again and you moan against his lips as your next climax hits you. You tighten around him and he slips out of you, letting you come down from your high. 

Then, he pulls you off the dryer, turning you around, pressing your chest down against it, as he enters you from behind. You grip the dryer once again, biting your lip to stop yourself from screaming. 

At this angle, he fills you up in a whole new way, even deeper than before. You could feel your legs going weak, but you need to stay upright. 

You want him that badly. 

Hotch fucks you like you've never been fucked before and you can't believe it took you _this long_ to finally get what you wanted. 

You have been desperately trying to catch his attention for the longest time, not knowing that you already had.

All he needed was an excuse to take you like he is right now. 

You feel yourself begin to clench up. You're about to cum again and he knows it, so he reaches his hand down, rubbing your sensitive clit with his calloused fingers.

That's all it takes for you to convulse, your body tensing up before exploding completely, your orgasm making you sweat and your knees go weak. 

A few moments later, you hear Hotch grunt and then he thrusts into you as deep as he can, spilling out inside of you. You knew that if there wasn't a condom there, he would've filled you up to the brim, enough for some to drip out after he pulled out. 

You let out a series of short, staggered breaths, laying your head down on your arm, exhausted. You hear him take the condom off, tossing it aside before buttoning his pants back up. 

Then, a beep goes off in the laundry room and the dryer stops vibrating altogether. The only sound left is your heavy breathing. 

"Looks like your clothes are dry," he says, his voice alluring, making you turn to face him. With his eyes locked on yours, he goes, "you should get changed. It looks like someone fucked your brains out."

Hotch leaves you with those words and you stand there, completely naked, hoping he'd do it again… 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @ [alice-rambles.tumblr.com](http://alice-rambles.tumblr.com)! I don't have any other social media, so if you want to chat/ask me anything, send me an ask on there!


End file.
